'History is all I am, young Master Hyram. If it's flattery you want, get yourself a flatterer to walk up all these stairs. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that there are books and books full of the stories of Vishmir and other speakers of old. Heh. I don't forget, you see. I still remember how your eyes used to light up when I'd finally consent to read to you about them. Your story will be much shorter, Your Holiness. Ten years of peace and prosperity in which nothing of any great significance happened to the realms, and all the little people were left to live their lives and get old and fat. That is what the story of a truly good speaker should be. Let that be enough.'
'I-Is it, though?'
Herlian shrugged. 'It is for the rest of us. If it's not enough for you, then tell me what is. I'll write wars for you if you want. Great victories, epic quests, strings of princesses fawning at your feet. Whatever you like. As much glory as you want.'
'N-No, Wordmaster, that won't b-be necessary.' Hyram shook his head, trying to push away the suffocating weight of hopelessness that seemed to press down on him these days. That's it, is it? I'll be remembered as a fine speaker, because no one has bothered to write anything else? But then why remember at all? He sat down, knowing that doing so would allow Herlian to sit as well. 'D-Do you have your q-quill? Let us start with a summons to P-Prince Jehal. M-Maybe you can add an execution as a f-footnote to my reign.'
30
Queen Aliphera's Garden
'I have a gift for you.' Jehal put on his best smile. Zafir glanced at him through her eyelashes. They were walking together, side by side, among many-coloured shrubs and rainbow flowerbeds. The summer sun was bright and warm and a faint breeze ticked Jehal's nose with strange scents, a heady mixture of perfumes and spices.
'Do you like my gardens?' asked Zafir. 'My mother grew them.' They walked just far enough apart to be sure they didn't touch, even by accident. Behind them a little knot of Zafir's ladies followed them around, not too close but never so far away that they were out of sight. In case they were needed to testify that nothing improper could possibly have happened.
'Indeed, Your Holiness.' He hated that, having to call her Holiness just because she was a queen now, and he was a mere prince. That would have to change. 'Queen Aliphera's Gardens are justly famous throughout the realms. Even as far north as…' He let that hang.
'You mean even dear Princess Lystra has heard of them? It defies imagination.' Her words had edges like razors. 'Is she well, your wife?'
Jehal pretended not to notice Zafir's venom. 'When I left, she was a picture of health and very bored.'
'You should have brought her with you. It would have been a delight to welcome her as a guest within my walls.'
Yes. Especially now that she's carrying my heir. Of course, he didn't know for sure that Zafir knew this; in fact he didn't even know for sure himself, but the signs were there, and as far as he could tell Zafir's spies were making sure that she was at least as well informed as he was. I should probably ask her whether it's going to be a boy or a girl.
He smiled again. 'She would have been overjoyed, I'm sure. Given her condition, however, I have had to order that she be confined to the palace. It is concern for her health, you see. The risk of miscarriage.' Zafir didn't blink. So that's that, then. She knows.
Zafir sniffed. 'I'm told that my mother was still flying three days before I was born. Queen Shezira probably gave birth to one of her daughters while still in the saddle.'
The risk of miscarriage that would come from letting you anywhere near her. 'Dear Queen Zafir, it should be plain to you that I've been seeking an excuse to lock my darling wife away since before I married her. Would you deny me my freedom?'
For a moment Zafir didn't answer. Then she stopped and turned to face him, and her face lit up. 'Is marriage so unhappy for you?'
'Deeply.'
'I'll help you get rid of her then,' she said quietly. 'I have a debt of that sort, after all.'
'In time, my love.' Jehal glanced back at the ladies-in-waiting. They were twenty, maybe thirty yards away, chatting among themselves, casting the occasional glance towards their queen. Well out of earshot.
'But not before she gives you an heir?'
'It does keep her out of the way, my sweet.'
'I suppose you, of all princes, can find a way to make sure she never gives birth. What a string of tragedies she has to look forward to.'
'Actually, I was thinking of birthing them in secret and then sending them away with the Taiytakei to be raised in secret in some far-off foreign land.'
She smiled. 'To come back in twenty years and challenge you for your throne? How romantic. And stupid. Get rid of them, Jehal. Them and her.'
'As soon as I can, my love. When I find the right potion.'
She drew a little closer, almost close enough to touch. 'Where do you get them from? Do you have a pet alchemist? He must be very good.'
Jehal bowed. 'Why, I make them myself, Your Holiness.'
'No you don't!' She laughed.
'I have a new one now. Something that makes my father's illness subside, at least for a while. I have a few flasks of it with me to dangle under Speaker Hyram's nose. Doubtless he intends to accuse me of killing your mother yet again, though without a shred of evidence. He's going to start sounding quite foolish soon. When he's done, I shall let him taste a little of my bottled salvation so that he can see how much better he might be, and then he'll never, ever taste any more.' He shook his head and laughed as well. 'Well, unless he makes me speaker, but I can't see that, can you?'
'I think he'd rather hand himself over to the dragon-priests.'
'Yes.' Jehal scratched his chin. 'Would he rather go slowly mad, though? I suppose he would, but it will be fun to find out.'
'Make him suffer. After he crowned me, he took me aside and asked if I'd killed her. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. And then he asked whether it was you.'
Jehal put on a face. 'Well I hope you told him no.'
'Of course I did. Still, I think he had rather more of a secret desire for my mother than I realised.'
'I don't think it was that secret.' Not that secret at all. Just not reciprocated. 'Don't worry, my sweet, it's me that he wants to hang, not you. Smile him a pretty smile and he'll melt like butter.'
'Like this?'
'Exactly like that. I feel my blood quickening already.' He glanced back at the watching courtiers and sighed. 'Is there some way we could…' he whispered.
Zafir's smile faded. She shook her head sadly. 'No. Not until this is done. That's what you said.'
'I know, but…' He grinned and bared his teeth. 'Now I'm here, it is a physical pain that I can't touch you.'
She blushed and looked at her feet. 'Do you like this dress?' she asked.
'On you, it's perfection.'
'It was my mother's. I think she wore it on the day she first met Speaker Hyram. I had to make some adjustments, of course. I spoke to some of my mother's old servants and learned how she carried herself, how she dressed herself, how she wore her hair. When Hyram sees me, it won't be me he sees – it will be my mother, as she was when he fell in love with her. I shall drive that dagger in deep and then twist until the blade breaks.'
'Oh, that's cruel.' Jehal grinned. 'Between the two of us, we should have him weeping on his knees.'
Zafir shrugged. 'He accused me, moments after he crowned me.'
Jehal grinned some more. 'Well, he was right.'
